Page 6 of Cocky Prince
I set down my beer. I understand the competitive nature of tourism, and casinos in particular. I’ve been surrounded by it my entire life, but Paul and William have my full attention now. “What else?”
William looks at Paul, who tucks his pointy chin, hiding a wide grin. “Hot chicks,” they say at the same time. “With low morals,” Paul adds.
I shove my hand in my pocket, my exterior cool, but inside I’m wondering what the fuck this venture is all about. Can’t be illegal. It wasn’t that long ago that Blue Casino was in the news for something an executive had done. Cost the casino a small fortune in PR to put out the fire, from what I’m told. Blackwell wouldn’t risk it.
Paul leans forward and places a hand on my shoulder. “Find the hottest chicks with the lowest morals who won’t say a thing.”
I pull back and narrow my eyes. To be honest, I never liked girls with low morals. It’s often coupled with low self-esteem, and that’s a turnoff. “If this venture is some new revenue builder, why not scrape a few employees off the top? Grab the best performers and move them up.”
“No, man.” William shakes his head. “Can’t be anyone from the inside. We tried that before and it backfired. Has to be new recruits who understand the discretion element.”
Who do they think they are, the CIA? “It would help if I understood the venture.”
“It’s basically right in your wheelhouse. Hospitality,” William says. “We’re beingveryhospitable to our patrons. The new employees will provide everything our customers could ever want in a luxury resort, with the focus on risk-taking and pleasure—exactly why they come to the casino.”
Paul taps his Blue sapphire signet ring on the side of his beer bottle. “Look at it this way—you can begin by hiring an assistant. Make sure she’s hot and not a prude. In fact, look for her in the strip clubs. Any of those chicks would pine for a job at Blue. Bump up the pay, and make sure she signs the confidentiality agreement we send you tomorrow. Blackwell has contacts for bodyguards. Guys he knows through his connections prior to running the casino. They’ll make sure everything runs smoothly.”
Suddenly, my quick promotion and the guys insisting we head out to Farley’s have my suspicions firing. “Tell me something.” I grab my beer and take a long drag. “Are we working right now?”
“Business and pleasure.” The sides of Paul’s narrow chin pull in with his grin. “They go hand in hand. You play it right—find the right people, help us get these suites crowded with wealthy, pleasure-seeking patrons—and you’ll be seeing seven-figure bonuses before you know it.”
That’ll do. I study both of their faces to make sure I heard right.
Seven figures, along with my regular salary, and I’ll be sailing through without help from the Cade coffers. I could distance myself from the entire enterprise, and my brothers couldn’t say shit about my holding on to Daddy’s purse strings because I wouldn’t need them. I won’t cut off all contact with my father the way my brothers have. I’ve always been able to compartmentalize his bullshit, and because of that, we have something of a relationship, even if it’s mostly a working one. But with this new venture, I won’t need to be dependent on my father financially.
I order another round of shots. So this thing has shady elements—the strippers, to name one. Can’t be that bad, or they wouldn’t be able to get away with it. And I’m no saint. I don’t typically go for the low morals, easy lay, but I never said I haven’t. Who am I to judge? “Just tell me how many employees we need, and when, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Yeah!” William slaps me on the back. “We knew you were one of us.”
I grimace. I don’t mind working with William and Paul, but they’re not friends. I like to think I have better taste.
“Just make sure you keep that Hayden chick out of it,” Paul says, and my back stiffens. “Use her for access cards—that kind of bullshit—but tell her nothing. Matter of fact, probably best to keep the new employee files locked in your office.”
I don’t like hearing Hayden’s name come out of Paul’s mouth, let alone the disgruntled look on his face when he says it. I wonder how many times she’s turned him down to put that scowl there. “Nope, won’t involve her at all.” Because I fucking don’t want Hayden around these jackasses.
Hayden may despise me, but that’s because I’m an asshole and she’s smart. I need this venture and the cash I’ll earn, but I also sense a seediness to it, and I don’t want Hayden anywhere near that. “When do we begin?”
Paul and William explain the number of employees we need and the general job descriptions, the rest to be filled in later. For now, they want attractive, pliable candidates. High pay, low profile, and if I can find dirt on them, even better. Jesus Christ.
It turns out the celebration for my new promotion was an induction of sorts. But I’m game. Just as long as this job provides a future that doesn’t involve the family business.
Chapter Three
Hayden
When I first left theCEO’s office yesterday, I wanted to get as far from Blue as possible. But that’s my natural reaction to bullies. Given a few hours of perspective, the fight in me returned. I came back to Lake Tahoe to build a life here because I love the area. I won’t back down and run like I did before.
I stare at the pile of work in front of me. My initial thought was that Blackwell didn’t care what I did at Blue, but that was foolish. He’ll have my ass fired and replaced with a more pliant female manager if I don’t do my job.
Blackwell isn’t opposed to working me to the bone. He simply won’t give me credit for it. Bonuses are reserved for his Blue Stars—the group I’d bet my right arm Adam is rubbing noses with. Those two jackasses, William and Paul, have been in and out of Adam’s office all day. My little spies tell me so.
Mira, my assistant, and Nessa, who works in marketing, sit across from me. Both Mira and Nessa have long, dark hair, but Mira’s hair is slightly wavy, and their faces look totally different. Nessa is petite, with a heart-shaped face and classical features, and Mira has stunning, high cheekbones, and rosy, bow-shaped lips. She’s also slightly more tanned than Nessa, thanks to her Washoe heritage.
Mira’s caramel-colored eyes flash with interest. “Rumor has it that Adam is looking for an assistant.”
I grind my black pointy heels into the plush carpet of my office and let out a growl. “Dammit.”
Mira places a document on my desk with an arrow pointing to a signature line. I glance at the form and scribble my name. It’s forAdam’s new promotion.
